A New Home
by Mytho-G
Summary: Kringal is blamed for a terrible accident that happened to one of her fellow kittens in her tribe and is immediately sent away to live with her uncle, Skimbleshanks. Physically and mentally scared, all Kringal hopes for is a new home. T for later language
1. Chapter 1

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A New Home

Mythoby: 

**Disclaimer:** I do not own CATS the musical (cept a few fan arts and the DVD movie), nor do I own the poems. The only original character(s) are** Kringal, Mariana, Billy Jones, and Kringal's family/tribe.**

**A/N:** **_NO_**. You may **_NOT_** use these characters, this story, or these scenes in **ANY** **WAY**, FORM, or _FASHION_ without my **written** permission.

Crits and comments welcomed.  
**Enjoy.**

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The orange tabby cat twiddle about on the train, doing his orderly check-up before the train had left for course. Today was a good start, making him believe that today was going to be a luscious day, yet again. His smug smile was clear and bright on his muzzle as he pranced passed the doors of the occupants for the long drive to London. A scuttling tune was bouncing through his ears that only he could hear, beating to his prance as he started to head towards his own quarters; that very same move causing him to bump into a prowling kitten.

"Oh, 'scuse me, miss. Are you lo—" He stopped mid sentence as he finally opened his merry eyes from their large sockets. Those sandy brown eyes became as wide as the iron wheels of the carts on the track, but before he could manage to say or rather do anything else, the kitten sounded off a loud note of merriment towards him.

"UNCLE SHANKS!!" the tabby colored cat shrunk his ears at the sound retreating from the other's voice area and tried his best to get out of her reach, but to no success. Soon enough, he was succumbed to the young kitten's grasp, a rather hard hug as loving as the young one wanted to be.

"Kringal," He gasped, trying his best to get out of the death grip that was taking his breath from him forcefully. "It's good to see you too…but do you think you could let me go?" He tried his best to pat the young kitten's head, letting her know that she can let go, but even his arms were immobilized.

"Hm? Oh! I'm sorry; I didn't mean to hurt you Uncle Shanks!" The high pitched voice, but yet somehow innocent to the ears, of the kitten tore through Shanks' ears, causing him to smile.

"It's okay, Kringal," He patted the top of her head with his paw, forgiving her with a deep sigh. He just couldn't stay mad at his only niece. He knew that she only meant well, but he also knew that her loose personality would get her into trouble someday. The thought gave him an idea, and he started to pray that he was wrong.

"Um…Kringal, please tell me that your mother is here with you." His ears started to twitch backwards, not sure if he should worry or not just yet. Kringal shook her head with a smooth line as a smile, her golden eyes a pair of glimmering beaches in the cart's light.

"Nope, I'm all here by my lonesome self!" She giggled, not sounding at all low about being on a train by herself.

Skimbleshanks started to feel worried, his ears starting to sink behind him at a slow rate, as his tail started to take on a drag form compared to its chipper movement just moments ago.

"And…where is your mother?" He was too nervous to ask her, afraid of what the answer might be, but he had to ask anyway. He remembered that the last time he had seen his sister and her daughter on the train; it was to take Mariana to the hospital for an unknown sickness. He didn't know what happened after they returned home.

"Oh, she's fine. We actually found out that the sickness was pneumonia; the docs were fabled by how she received it! We were thinking that it might have been from the baby that our pets have just recently received not too long ago." She smiled at this knowledge, not only being proud that her mother was doing fine, but also knowing how much her uncle cared for his sister; she knew that he would be a reck from knowing that she had left this world without seeing him last.

As Kringal saw, this news did help Shanks. He breathed out a heavy sigh and poised his ears up. Well, that was one thing out of the way, now to ask the more accurate questions.

"Alright then, why would Mariana send you to London by yourself?"

"It was my choice because I want to live with you and the others in the junkyard!" He didn't even have to wait a millisecond after he finished his question. She answered it as if she was born with this answer.

It took a while for this information to seep through his head and register to accurate meaning. When it did, his eyes went as wide as they had when he had first seen his niece standing before his office door.

"No, no—Kringal, you can't stay with me. I…I don't know the proper means of raising a kitten by myself, and I would have to consult with the leaders of the tribe, and that would most certainly take weeks to discuss in time, and then there's the matter of fact of where you are going to live; you are not going to be a junk-yard cat, nor an alley cat! You were born and half raised in a wonderful family home, that I can't understand why you left in the first place—"

"Because I was casted out by mother's tribe that rested in our fields."

Again, Shanks hadn't needed to wait for his wonderments to become solid answers. He was now feeling ashamed of himself when he saw the look on his niece's face: Her ears were casted down flat against her skull, her tail tucked under her as if she were getting yelled at. For the first time, he actually saw her eyes become a low yellow color, as if they were rusting away from neglect.

He placed a paw on her shoulder and drew her into a comforting hug, feeling her snuggle her head against his chest as he rubbed her back. He felt wet droplets drop on his chest and forefeet, causing his own ears to draw back in sadness.

"What happened…?" He looked down at her, not caring if she didn't answer right away. It was a burden to be casted out of your tribe, especially if you were born and raised in it. He knew this well, thanks to Grizabella; he thought that he resented her when she had left, but when she returned, it was as if something had filled him anew again. But this was different; Kringle is a good kitten and good natured, she wouldn't even harm an insect, play with it, but not harm it.

"It was my fault, Uncle. I should have known, but for some reason it just didn't register in my puny mind." She sniffled again, wiping some tears from her eyes that threatened to fall. Now her eyes were shimmering gold, but in a sad radiance rather than her glorious cheerful attitude.

"What was your fault, littlelun?" He held her closer, telling her through body language that he won't judge her no matter what she had to say. All the while, he kept thinking of what she might have gone through, what she might have been capable of doing to be casted out of, not just her own tribe, but her own home as well.

"I…I played part with the…the killing of Billy Jones." At this, she started to wail, and crash with tears. Her cries were strong and overbearing, but only to the heart. Shanks was stunned at hearing this, but as soon as her cries reached his ears he snapped out of it and took her to his quarters immediately.

It was a two hour and forty-five minute train ride to London, and throughout the entire time, Shanks had never let go of his niece who was either crying or sleeping from exhaustion. It was here that he started to examine her while she slept. He could feel her heart beat against him as she was curled next to his body, a smile portraying on him. That same smile soon faltered when he had seen the damage done.

Not only was she banned, but apparently they had punished her before her leave: She had scars on the back of her thighs, and just under her upper arms. These scars will most defiantly limit her from jumping, running, and possibly stretching. A growl rumbled through his chest as he saw what those felines had done to his Kringle. He held the kitten closer to him in a protective manner, now changing his mind about her staying with him. No matter what Munkustrap or even Tugger told him, he will have her stay with him, if not, he will be returning to London with blood on his paws.

The whistle blew loud and merry with the arrival of London right next to its bodus. The station was busy with bustling people either getting on or off the arriving train, just an hour away from departing to its next destination.

Well rested and attitude anew, Kringal looked out the window of her uncle's office, her eyes lighting up with merriment, bringing the meaning of her name to life. Her head and eyes were following the busy bodies of the humans across the station, giving the imitation of a cat about to pounce on a playful toy.

Skimbleshanks had to chuckle at this; he knew that she loved London, but it was an amusing offer to see her at the arrival, which was the reason why he woke her up before they did. He knew that she would be mortified if she missed seeing the large city's silhouette before they entered it, and missing the many buildings and streets as they passed towards the station was just a little fragment of her favorite part of the ride.

Approaching her from the doorway of his office, Shanks placed a calm paw upon her shoulder with a warm smile, only broadening when he saw the look on his niece's face; her own face as bright as Christmas, reminding him of the jolly times.

"It's time for us to go, Kringal. We need to get this business out of the way if you are going to stay with me-Oomph!" Before he knew it, he was on his back with a hyperactive kitten in his arms and hugging him to death, again.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank youuuu!! I promise I won't be a burden to you, Uncle Shanks!!" she looked up at him with brilliant gold eyes, her tail swaying behind her with excitement and thrill for what was to come.

Shanks, on the other hand, was far from what she was feeling. As they left the train, and its station through a secret way from the jumbled humans, he couldn't help but know what the cats are going to want to know about her: Why was she banned from her home? That question will most defiantly come up, and he had the guttest of feelings that Munkustrap wasn't going to be keen on hearing about it.

"Uncle Shanks, can we stop for a moment?" the innocent voice of his niece rang out to his ears from behind, and he glanced over in curiosity. His ears twitched in wonderment as she was breathing rather hard and limping in her footing. He was about to ask her what was the matter when the images of her scars and their places flashed past his eyes. He felt that he could be dropped with bricks for being so forgetful about her injuries.

Sighing with anger towards himself he set his paws in front of him as he faced her and sat down against the wall of the sidewalk, letting her catch her breath. He looked at her with stone eyes, only imagining what he could do to those barbarians that called themselves cats. His tail idly wrapped its way around her in a protective manner like it did on the train when she was napping, he didn't pull it back when she gave him a questioning look.

"It's only a block and a half away after this corner, Kringal. After this rest, do you think you can handle it?" He looked down towards her, now realizing that she had grown in the past couple of months, making him realize again that her adult-ship is coming up soon. If his calculations were correct on her age, it should be a matter of weeks from now.

"Yes, I think I can handle it, Uncle." She smiled up at him with cheerfulness. Even though she was in dreaded pain, she wasn't going to let it bother her time with her uncle and friends back at the junkyard. Even though it has been almost a year since she's been there, for she couldn't visit when she was with her mother at the hospital, she misses her friends terribly, and wondered and hoped if they missed her as well.

"Alright, well let's carry on before dusk arrives at our shadows." He smiled and nudged her to stand just slightly and took their pace slower than normal, not wanting to rush her with injuries.

When they finally arrived at the entrance to the junkyard, it was an hour 'till dusk and most of the inhabitants were already there. Shanks looked around as he made sure that his niece didn't wonder off from his sight, trying to spot either Munkustrap or Tugger in his view. Neither surfaced, making him believe that they were either with their mates or out on a meal hunt.

Seeing a patch of calico colors flash before his eyes, he looked down at his niece who was now laughing and tumbling on the ground. At first he was resentful, being reminded of her scars, but he let it slide for once. After all, it's hardly ever that you see Rumpleteazer and her twin Mongojerrie in playful moods other than stealing or rough house.

"Cut it out, Jerrie!! That t-t-t-tickles!!" the merriment of Kringal's laughter made the twin calicos howl in their own laughter, Teazer holding her down while Jerrie took the ultimate pleasure of tickling every sensitive spot he knew on this kitten.

"But dat's da whole idea of it, Gallie!!" He giggled to her and continued on, that is until one of his claws scrapped against one of her underarm scars, causing her to howl and hiss in pain. Mungojerrie immediately stopped and pulled back, his eyes growing wide as he looked down at what he had touched, only to see a long scar that has barely had the chance to heal.

"Wha' is it, Jerrie?" Teazer's voice rang out in the silence, her grip loosening on Kringal's wrist to the point where she could pull away. Kringal didn't, however, she didn't want to keep her scars a secret, but she didn't want them to ask how she received them either.

The male calico cat that was hovering above Kringal looked down at his friend with astonishment, not sure how to feel or what to say.

"I-I'm sorry, Kringal. I didn' mean ta make it worse. Are ya okay?" He backed up from her and helped her up, his ears folding flat at realizing what he'd done.

As always, Kringal was a kind heart and smiled at him, even though the pain was unbearable. "It's okay, Jerrie, you didn't know; you were only being your playful self after all." She laughed at him, nipping at his ears to try and perk them up, hating seeing him or Teazer in a down mood.

Teazer came up and gently lifted Kringal's forearms, taking a glance at the scars; one of them newly bleeding, but not by much.

"Wha' 'appened, deary??" The female calico looked suspicious at the scars. Even though she wasn't the brightest of felines, she knew purposeful wounds when her eyes spotted them.

This was the question that Kringal didn't want to hear, and from two of her best friends to boot. She didn't want to lie to them, but she didn't want to lose them either. Her ears flattened to her skull and tail pulled in close like she had done on the train towards her uncle.

"I…I don't want to talk about it, right now." Her gaze was still glued downward, giving them the only truthful answer that she could give them. The only one she wanted to tell was the one she was scared of telling it to: The heir to the Jellicle clan, Munksustrap.

She looked up when she felt another pelt rub against her back and shoulders. She saw the white fur of Victoria. When did she come in?

"Is everything alright, my lovely kitten?" Her bright blue eyes glimmered in concern as the adult white feline purred against her friend. Victoria had always felt a sister connection to Kringal, but it had turned motherly after her ceremony of adult-hood.

"Kringal somehow recieved a coupa a scars on 'er underarms. Dey looks pretty bad." Jerrie responded faster than Kringal's mind could produce an accurate response to Victoria's concerned voice. She partly glared at her calico pal in response to his answer, leaving him to only innocently shrug.

"What?" Victoria's eyes widened as Shanks had when he had found out. She looked back down at Kringal before her, looking as if she would cry for her kitten friend at any moment.

"Oh! Kringal darling, who would do such a terrible thing to you?" She hugged her closely to her blindly white pelt, her question only meaning to be that of worry and care. Kringal, on the other hand, took it as a theoretical statement towards her scars and only cringed at the touch of her motherly figure.

"I…I'm sorry, Vicky, Jerrie, Teazer...I really don't want to talk about it until I've talked to Munkustrap. Please, please don't tell anyone else about it until things have been settled, please??" She looked up at her friends with pure, glitteringly golden eyes, looking to spring out leaks any second.

The three looked at their younger friend with warm and caring smiles, unable to say no to those innocent and cute looks that she is so naturally able to pull off.

"Of course sweety, we promise." Victoria hugged her friend closely to her chest as Teazer and Jerrie nodded in unison agreement and hugged their friend from behind.

Kringal smiled proudly, letting a few strands of tears fall out of pride and happiness; grateful towards having such amazing and wonderful friends.

Soon, all the cats, including Kringal's ears started to twitch: Munkustrap was returning to the tribe, and he was nearby. Even though he wasn't truly the leader of the tribe, he might as well be: Deuteronomy hasn't been to the tribe since he fell sick a year ago, but he still makes decisions for the tribe when he can.

Kringal all of a sudden became nauseous in the stomach and scooted closer to Victoria's chest, trying to hide herself among the white fur. Her ears plastered down as she felt the muzzle of the white body nudge her gently against the cheek, giving her slight encouragement.

Shanks took this moment to reunite himself to his niece, standing next to Victoria with a nervous gesture of his own ears, not sure if he was ready to have a rough evening with the leader of the tribe. When he looked down at his overly nervous and half shaken niece, however, everything changed. He would risk a winter's moment for her alone.

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**A/N:** I know, I know; I'm not dead. Sorry guys :D. I've just taken a slight break last week and came up with this story when I re-watched CATS the musical.  
Oh...My...Gods...I forgot how **amazing** this musical was. I know, shame on me.

This is not the first fanfic I did for this category, so I am familiar with the characters. But if you feel that I had portrayed someone wrongfully, please message me and I will do what I can. It has been a long time since I've seen the characters in action, after all ;.

I know I didn't describe much of what Kringal looks like, but that was because I was still working on her design during this. I finally (thanks to a friend) have her down and so I hope I will have her posted on my art page soon for you to see. Her description will be in the next chapter...or I might just change this up tonight, lol.

Don't expect many updates soon. I have a Quarterly college (just started) and things are starting to take on a run, so I only have time for my job and doing h/w.  
Thank you for being paitent with me, and I will try to update my other stories as well.

I love you, my readers!! :D  
-**Mytho**


	2. Chapter 2

**CH. 2**

**Disclaimer**: I do not own CATS, The Musical--rights belong Andrew Lloyd Webber and T.S. Elliot.

Sorry for the lateness of this chapter my readers, I was working on and off with this chapter because it is probably the most depressing I've written in a long time--I need to get into the mood. So, without further a due, here is Ch. 2 :]

Crits and comments obliged.

Please, **Enjoy**.

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When Munkustrap had entered through the gates of the junkyard the cats and kittens started to immediately greet him up close, all except four.

Munkustrap took note onto the small group that was standing just a few yards away from him, starring: two warningly, as if threatening him, one kind and pleadingly, one wise and determined, and…..one that was scared, almost shaken to death. When he had seen the latter of the four, he saw that the kitten had retreated in the chest of Victoria, shaken to near tears.

His ears were brought down by this movement; the last thing he wanted to be was feared, especially by kittens. He started to tred slowly towards the small group with a concerned look on the kitten in the arms of Victoria. He stopped just a few inches away from the group, giving them their private spaces but close enough to talk to.

"Skimbleshanks," the soft yet strong voice of Munkustrap rumbled through the group, giving all their attention to him. "Welcome back, brother." He smiled kindly to the orange tabby with a nod in welcome.

Shanks nodded back towards his silver and black stripped leader. "Thank you, sir. It is under drear circumstances I'm afraid." His voice softened at the last part as he looked down at his niece with equally soft eyes.

Munkustrap looked back down at the kitten with soft yet strongly concerned eyes. He tilted his head gently and got up from his sitting position and moved closer. He placed a gentle paw under the kitten's chin, feeling wet fur there; she had been crying.

This saddened him as he lifted her chin, taking in a good look at the face and glittering eyes. It didn't take long for him to realize who it was, but he was shocked to see those teary eyes belonging to the high-spirited kitten that he knew.

"Kringal…?" His voice softened to a whisper, almost afraid to see if it was truly her just centimeters before him and crying, because of him.

The dark orange and silver kitten sniffed and nodded, lifting a shaking paw and wiping at her eyes. Her voice was shaky and an almost pathetic cuteness when she spoke.

"Y-yes, sir…I'm sorry that I'm not-not more presentable." She looked down, ashamed at herself for being such a nervous reck in front of one of the cats that most enjoyed her story telling.

Munkustrap moved closer, causing Victoria to move back from her position. Kringal nearly fell over from this gesture, showing just how much she was leaning against her white furred friend; Munkustrap caught her gently though. This brought his brow together in wonderment; usually she's more graceful around him.

"Is there something that you need to tell me, littlun?" He looked at her gently; his head just centimeters from hers as he starred at her.

Those eyes were the source that Kringal didn't want to see. Her lips started to tremble as she tried to keep her tears to herself, but failing miserably. Her head tilted downward as she drew in a deep breath that ended to be a low moan of tears, causing Munkustrap to look surprised.

Shanks immediately removed Kringal from his leader's arms and placed her in his own, calming her down with pets and coos. He partially glared up at the silver and black cat in front of him, as if he had caused her to cry uncontrollably.

"Let us take this somewhere more secluded, Munkustrap. We need to talk to you about something…unforgivable." Skimbleshanks voice was so vigorous with seriousness that it even brought Munkustrap to surprise. His words caused the leader to look about them; they had most indeed attracted an unwanted crowd of the clan that encircled them at a good distance, but all was quiet.

He nodded in agreement and started to walk towards his quarters that were within the junkyard.

Skimbleshanks started to follow the proud leader when he felt a strong tug around his paw. He looked down to see a crying and pleading Kringal just below him. His face softened beyond that of pity or sorrow; he didn't want to do this to his niece, but it must be talked about with the leader. He sighed greatly and placed a stiff arm around her shoulders and hugged her closely, whispering her encouragements and coos to calm her down before they continued on towards Munkustrap's quarters.

The black and silver tabby looked up from his sitting position, having been lost in thought before the two came in. They were in a rather large room, one that could easily well be described as a broken down wardrobe of fine hickory wood. A large, over worn velvet cloth draped the entrance, giving them plenty of privacy to discuss. Kringal was taking in the detail of the marvelous room, striking her with awe as she tried to forget about her nervousness; it worked, for she had forgotten that Munkustrap was even there.

"Please, Skimbleshanks, enlighten me on this "unforgivable" deed that you had mentioned that pertains to Kringal." Munkustrap had a skeptical face to match his voice, for he, as well as the others in his clan, viewed Kringal as the one and only pure and innocent soul who loves fun and laughter. Just like her name, she is the spirit of happiness and cheerful times; just like Christmas.

The orange tabby cat sighed thru his chest and looked down at his niece, whom he took note on was taking particular interest in the markings of the hickory. He smiled very faintly and looked to Munkustrap seriously.

"I sincerely think that Kringal should do the story telling on this particular rythym. She is, in fact, an amazing tale-teller." He smiled gently towards the cat in front of him with a look of plead, wanting him to go easy on her.

Kringal looked up from her investigating on the markings with a curious look, hearing her name and the words 'story-telling' in the same sentence. For a split moment, she almost forgot about the reason of why she was there, but when she had laid eyes on the darker tabby in front of her uncle, she wished she was lost in the alley somewhere, or at least playing mindless games with the mischief twins.

She looked up at her uncle with eyes that portrayed her ladder of the proclamation he had made for her. With an easy shove, however, Kringal was comfortably in between the two adult cats. Swallowing hard with her ears twitching back, Kringal looked up at the leader with fearful eyes, feeling her body shake with both nervous and fear of what he might do to her.

Munkustrap caught sight of this and softened his gaze with another lingering sigh. He lowered his head and nudged the younger one's cheek with his, giving her encouragement with his movements.

"Don't worry, Kringal," He said with a soft whisper, more caring in his voice than he wished to have leaded on, but it reasoned with his feelings.

"I won't judge you, or what will happen, until I hear every bit of your story; that I can assure you. I may not know you as well as your uncle, or friends, but I know you well enough that you wouldn't commit a crime of the sins." He straightened up and nodded for her to start when she was ready.

Kringal bit her lower lip with small nibbles in thought, not on if she should start or not, but on how she should start her terrorizing tale.

With a final sigh and twitch of her ears, she nodded as if agreeing with the layout of the story that she had settled with. At seeing this, both Munkustrap and Skimbleshanks took their seats; comfortable and bearable, for they knew, like all her stories, this was going to be a long tale.

With a final look towards Munkustrap, Kringal cleared her throat and closed her eyes to remember the day that ended her simple life forever.

"Well, it all happened on a bright and sunny day; the clouds were high, the sun hot on my shoulders and back with the cool summer breeze to even it out to a comfortable fever. I was walking with my best friend, and half brother, Billy Jones. We were returning from paying his grandmother a visit; you see she has been terribly sick with age. I don't even know if she received the news or not when I left." Her look was solemn and sad, knowing that it would break the old country cat's heart when she received it, if she did.

Munkustrap had a concerned look on his face, his tail twitching in anticipation on what might have happened; the suspense of the story already getting to him. Shanks, on the other hand, already knew what it was, but listened anyway, trying his best to keep from hugging his little niece close to his body.

With a shake of her head, Kringal continued with her story.

"We were on the old country roads; we rarely use them for the humans driving their metal vehicles fast on them. You see, in the country there are hardly any rules or poppers, so it's only natural for us felines and animals to fear the roads, or anything associating with the humans, unless we grew up around them."

Munkustrap nodded in understanding. He had heard terrorizing stories from the countries that included the deaths of many felines, and even dogs. The carelessness of humans sometimes amazed him when he heard them.

"Billy Jones was…well, more fun loving than I am and could hardly keep his energy at bay. He was younger than I am, a solid four months and two weeks younger, so it was hard to keep him under control in the beginning. However, for some reason he was…irritably excited. It might have been that he had visited his grandmother, or the fact that our clan was going to have another celebration that night, I wasn't sure, and still am not, but…well I should have paid more attention to his excitement behavior rather than watch the shapeless clouds roll by."

Here is where Kringal's expression saddened to an almost unbearable intensity. Munkustrap noticed this and was close to telling her that she could stop if she wanted to, but he knew that would be unwise; this wasn't just a story, it was what had happened to Kringal before she came on an unexpected visit. So he succumbed up his sympathy and waited for her to continue.

"I heard him starting to walk across the dirty road, the rocks trembling under his pattered paws to his own merry beat. I was smiling merrily, for it was a perfect day, a perfect moment; nothing could have ruined it." She sniffed to control her sobs, the sounds of her little brother echoing plain in her ears as the memories started to return to her; fresh and unbearably clear.

"As soon as I looked down from the clear blue sky, a derision expression against what was to come, a horn blew right at the second I heard by little brother scream in overwhelming fear…" Her tears were free falling now, causing her sight to blur and gaze to wonder back to the ground as she forced herself to move on, still holding her best to not go into hysterical fits.

"He…He didn't make it. I…I didn't, couldn't do anything to save him. There…There was blood—his blood, everywhere and…I-I just stood there, like the stupid little kitten I am, I just stood there!" Her head sunk low between her forearms, starting to cry aloud with uncontrollable tears. Shanks immediately made his way to her, wrapping both his arms around her and rocking her closely to him, trying his best to at least tone down her frustrated and saddened exterior form.

He glanced up at the leader with tear filled eyes himself, only to see that the silver and black tabby was glancing down on the ground, deep in thought and no trace of tear in his eyes. He didn't know if he was hiding them, or he was stronger than he had thought of him. Either way, the fate of his banished niece's life was in his hands.

After a few sorrow filled moments of the heart wrenching cries of Kringal running thru their ears, the small kitten had calmed down to a stable sniffle of silent tears; less of a waterfall, but fast enough for every two tears per second. She looked up at Munkustrap with a shameful look of apology as she placed her shimmering golden eyes towards the floor.

"I'm sorry for l-losing control li-like that." She mused as she sniffled yet again, her breaths rugged from exhaustion.

The wiser tabby nodded in reply, not saying anything. His eyes were still strong, but when he laid them on the pathetic-looking kitten, his form changed to a sympathetic friend as he moved closer to her, wrapping an arm warmly around her shoulders and hugging her gently. It was a move that he was formally unknowing of, so it felt awkward to him, but he knew that it would help the kitten.

It did, for she had smiled sadly as she leaned against his warm chest, glad that he wasn't angered with her, like the elders back home, but was still nervous for there was still more to the tale.

"There is more, isn't there?"

She looked up shockingly towards her uncle, wondering how it is that he had possibly known that there was more. She knew that he was smart and sly, but she didn't know that he was psychic to boot. Munkustrap also portrayed his surprise, but instead aimed it towards the littlelun in his arms.

"Is there more, Kringal?" He asked, more worried than anything else.

Sadly, she nodded in response, stepping a few paces away from and sniffed as she rubbed her eyes and nose with her paw.

"Yes, sir…there is more. The second part of the tale is…rather more violently taken place at the clan's hideaway." Her gaze lowered as she said the final words, hoping that Munkustrap might get the point, honestly not wanting to go into drier details of what had happened.

The leader nodded and placed a comforting paw on her shoulder, letting her know that she may continue if she wished. She did just that.

"Well, unlike you and uncle, they wouldn't listen to reason; having had trouble accepting me in the first place, I suppose they took this chance to ban me, but…." She shivered at this and wrapped her arms around herself in a protective manner, her ears flattening themselves against her skull as she glanced down; again the memory of what happened coming back in grave details.

"They…punished me, you could say, for what I had done to not only a member of our clan, but to my own little brother-"

"It wasn't your fault, Kringal." His voice had finally boomed out with determination and a hint of anger. It even made Shanks jump a few meters in the air from surprise; he didn't think that he could portray his emotions just as equally thru hearing this once, rather than seeing it. He didn't want to know what kind of horror would race thru the darker tabby if he had seen the damage done.

Kringal looked up at him with widened eyes, surprised that he had interrupted her and, most importantly, said the complete opposite of what her elders had agreed to. Her eyes started to sparkle again, but this time a sprinkle of happiness was shimmering thru them as she lunged herself into a hug towards him, crying him a thank you river against his chest.

Munkustrap was taken aback from her actions, but smiled nonetheless and rubbed her head gently, paying special attention to her ears at an attempt to raise them up again.

"What exactly had they done to you, Kringal?" He had voiced out when Kringal had calmed down seconds later. He felt her stiffen against him at the question and knew right away that it was something most terrible. He glanced up towards Shanks, only to do a double-take at the lighter tabby across from him; he was glaring at him, but his eyes looked distant. It was as if he was glaring at the question he had asked. It was then that he realized that Skimbleshanks knew exactly what Kringal's elders had chosen for her punishment.

Curiosity getting the best of him from Shank's expression, he looked back down at the kitten in his arms and lifted her chin, her expression gone to a near painful emotionless turn; nothing like the Kringal he is used to seeing. Just one look and he knew that they had somehow managed to break this cheerful soul apart, even though she could go back to being merry, she has a forever broken side.

"Kringal…what happened?" He spoke slowly, not only for her sake, but his. If he didn't, his anger would seep thru his words and would most undoubdfully scare the poor kitten into a fright.

She looked him in the eyes and looked to the side, her expression going to another ashamed look, but having a painful twist on the edge. As Munkustrap was forming another question in his mind, Kringal had lifted her arms. He was confused at first, but when she had reached over her head, his eyes had widened in a shocked manner.

The scars were as plain as day; one freshly opened with dried up blood around it, and the other struggling to heal. He was about to say something when she had stood up and turned herself around and moved her tail, showing her thighs. His mannerism because twice the way it was when he saw the exact same scars on the back of her thighs, just above the dip of her knees. He knew what those scars represented, and he couldn't believe that those felines that called themselves elders in her clan would do this to her, a kitten!

A low growl emmited from his throat as he closed his eyes, trying his best to calm his nerves before speaking again; the last thing he wanted was to scare this kitten from what she had already been thru. Reopening his eyes, he looked at the now turned kitten in front of him, her eyes a concerned gold color, back from their pale yellow that they were a mere moment ago.

He glanced up at Skimbleshanks and already knew that he was ready to protest if he were to go against with her to stay with them. He demented grin was portraying itself across his muzzle at the thought of the gentle train-tabby fighting against him; it was humorous all on its own.

"Don't worry, Skimbleshanks," he said thru his grin, his eyes opening to show that he agrees with the lighter tabby's decisions.

"So long as she stays with you, and is well-cared for, she is welcomed to stay as she pleases." He nodded to them both with a warm smile, only to be plummeted to the ground with an 'oompf'.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank youuuuu!!! I promise I won't be a burden to you, or your tribe, Munkustrap!" The young kitten giggled towards him as she hugged him with exciting merriment like she had done to her uncle on the train ride merely hours ago.

Skimbleshanks folded his arms with a grin, glad to know that a fellow cat has experienced his pain that is his niece.

Munkustrap tried his best to pat her head, but was restrained from doing so, and instead voiced his musings.

"You're welcome, Kringal. Now, could you please let me go? Air is rather nice for my lungs." He gasped in between hard drawn breaths, really having tough time breathing while being amazed at the strong grip of the small kitten.

Kringal immediately let go of him with a warm pink blush of embarrassment on her furred cheeks, smiling sheepishly with a rub at the back of her head with her paw.

"Sorry, Munkustrap, I didn't mean to tackle you. I'm just so happy!" She giggled to portray her feelings beyond words, receiving a pat on the head from the one she had just deathly hugged in thanks.

"Well, why don't you run a long and tell your friends about your long-about stay. I'm sure Teazer and Jerrie will be thrilled at the news." He made the last sentence drip with as much sarcasm as he could muster, knowing full well that they will drag Kringal into as many mischivious adventures as they could come up with. He just hoped that she could get them out of it.

Before he knew it, she did just that and all that was left was the empty spot in front of him and Shanks. Not only was she strong, but she was fast. Country cats always amazed him beyond their laziness.

"Thank you, Munkustrap. You really don't know the appreciation this means to the both of us." Skimbleshanks nodded towards the leader as he departed outside to make sure that Kringal didn't rouse up a stir with her friends, honestly happy with the outcome of things.

Munkustrap smiled at the path that orange tabby had taken and mused to himself;

"No, the appreciation is all on me, Skimbleshanks." With that, the silver and black tabby went out to do find Tugger and tell him the news of a new arrival.

* * *

**A/N**: Well, nothing to say tonight--except I was listening to a techno version of Sleigh Bells while writing Kringal's story...yes, I know, I'm demented, lol.  
Hmm..What would Tugger say to this random arrangement with Kringal and the clan? Will he be willing and understanding, like Munkustrap and Skimbleshanks, or rough and undermining like the elders from Kringal's past tribe? But most importantly, how will Kringal's friends react?

Find out in the third chapter, and we will find out.

Remember to review--it pumps my creative juices for furthering the plot.

Love you my readers!  
-MythoG


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